Yesterday I had a bit of a breakdown.
Told I look pale as a ghost, quiet, said NO to an order with a perfect qualifier that put someone else’s momentary embarrassment/ego shrink into its place and prevented a far worse problem.
When our lass walked into the room, sat down beside me and held me in her arms – the tears flooded out.
Hey. I’m not, Not, NOT perfect. My weaknesses are the same as other peoples’
Sometimes Enough is Enough and a reboot is essential for survival.
I do not believe that ANYTHING is ever Ended/Over/Done/DEAD.
Things just metamorphose :
When I was a kid, we had a wonderful children’s TV show in Britain called Vision On and its follow on called Take Hart.
They had a pet. Called Morph :o)
Uncontrolled Historian 